The weekend in Los Angeles had been a whirlwind. I'd spent less than seventy-two hours on the west coast, and somehow had managed to squeeze in a hockey game, quality time with both my boyfriend and my parents, as well as a handful of little adventures around Derrick's new city.

Not to mention all the sex.

But sadly, the fairy tale came to an end all too quickly, leaving me to settle right back into life in Boston.

"Are the two coffees a good thing or a bad thing?" Harper asked when I took a seat across from her and Esme Monday morning.

"Neither," I responded, taking a long gulp to try and get as much caffeine flowing through my body as possible. In an attempt to prolong my weekend with Derrick, and because there'd been limited tickets left so last minute, I'd taken a red-eye back from Los Angeles and had only landed a few hours earlier. I'd been so close to canceling, but after realizing I had no coffee at home, I knew there was no way I could get through the day without it. "Just precautionary, since I didn't really sleep all that well on the flight. So, I'm hoping this—" I shook the coffee cup in my hand slightly. "—can get me through the day until I can crash in my own bed."

Esme lifted a brow, an ounce of concern noticeable in her expression. "Was it just the plane that made it hard to sleep? Or was it knowing you were leaving your man on the west coast?"

And if I was being honest with myself, it was mostly the latter.

Typically I was okay with flying overnight, or as good as any normal person could be seated in coach. Last night, however, I couldn't get my brain to shut off. I'd close my eyes and think about the weekend Derrick and I had shared—the nights wrapped up in one another and the days spent laughing and exploring—wondering when we'd get a chance to be in the same time-zone again.

Looking down at my cup, I asked, "Does it being the second one make me a fool?"

Harper shook her head. "You couldn't be a fool even if you tried."

"Apparently I can be," I said, "because I used to be logical about things like this. How the hell is anything about my relationship with Derrick logical?"

"Logic doesn't always come into play when it comes to love, Lia."

My shoulders fell as I blew out a long breath, that simple four-letter word floating around my head. "He flew my parents out guys."

The words tumbled out with whispered awe, and while it wasn't a new revelation, I'd been too busy enjoying my time with them to fully digest the significance of the action until now.

Both of them feigned shock and I rolled my eyes.

"I know you guys helped him pull it off," I said, watching as their expressions turned sheepish, "but I still can't believe it happened. Like, how did he even come up with the idea?"

"Did you ask him?" Esme asked, lifting a brow. "Because he didn't give us much information when he looped us into his plan."

"I did."

"And?"

"He said he wanted to make the most out of my visit. That he was thinking of a way to make me feel at ease with taking time off work and also didn't want me sitting all by myself in the stands at his game. And despite how crazy it'd sounded, he'd thought finding a way for me to see my family was the perfect solution."

"Are you doubting him?" Harper asked.

I shook my head. "No, no, it's just... who does that? I've never had a guy do something that thoughtful. And obviously he had the means to do so, but it wasn't even about the money. It was the fact he happily gave up time that was supposed to be about the two of us to give me some rare time with my parents. And that was before his family showed up."

"I'm sorry—" Harper blinked, suddenly confused. "—what?"

"Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention that his parents also decided to surprise him by flying down for his game?"

"Damn girl," Esme said, "so the weekend ended up being a whole family affair?"

"I mean, not the whole time." I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks, thinking of the hours we had to ourselves. Something that didn't go unnoticed by my friends, who both shot me knowing looks, though stayed mum. "Most of the day Saturday was spent together and they all flew out around noon yesterday, but because of Derrick's game, I had to ride things out without him for a few hours."

"And how was that?"

"Honestly... it was okay," I admitted. "I obviously hadn't expected it, and had kind of pumped myself up to be cheering in the stands alone, but it wasn't as awkward as I thought it'd be. His parents were super sweet, especially his mom, since his dad was definitely more on the quiet side, but my parents also helped fill the silence. And then at the game, we ended up being led to the box with other families of the players."

Harper's eyes widened. "No way."

"Way." I took a long gulp of my coffee. "There were wives and girlfriends, and other player's kids. And to be honest, it was a little intimidating at first. Once the game started though, most people turned their attention to what was happening down on the ice."

"Well, just be glad this all happened out in LA," Harper said, "because if you were getting that VIP treatment when he'd been playing for the Knights, I might've grown insanely jealous. Or bugged you to take me along to all the games as your plus one."

"Ditto," Esme added, and I laughed.

"Since when does a plus one get a plus one? Or two?"

"We would've figured it out," Harper mused before her features softened. "But since we don't have to worry about that... we just need to know that flying out there was worth it."

"It was worth it." Flashes from the weekend replayed in my head. "Definitely."

The only downside?

That after a weekend where Derrick had managed to wiggle his way even closer to my heart, we were almost three thousand miles apart, and I had no idea when we'd be able to see each other again.

***

That first week back in Boston had been a big one for me, with my interview for the Harvard lecturer position barreling toward me all too fast. I'd been buzzing with nerves, but keeping to his word, Derrick called me on Tuesday night after an afternoon game—the first of three on the team's south east road trip. His voice alone had managed to settle my mind, and in the hours that followed, he acted as a sounding board, listening while I went over details of the job, my qualifications, and sample interview questions. It was extremely helpful, and come the following day, it'd paid off.

Sitting in front of two members of the department whom I'd met sporadically over the course of my studies, I'd appeared confident and knowledgeable. Like someone who was ready to step into this role and knock it out of the park.

And clearly they'd thought so too, because I'd been told a few days later that I was moving on the final phase of the hiring process. It included various faculty members sitting in on the last few lessons of my undergraduate class, watching and making notes as I wrapped up the material, which was stressful. Any time a student raised their hand, I had a small panic before they spoke, wondering if I'd be able to properly answer their questions or clarify the material, but I'd gotten through it.

Which left me in a holding pattern, waiting for the department to evaluate the other candidates before they came to a decision. So, I reverted my focus back to my defense, because even though it wasn't an official part of the hiring process, I had a feeling they'd wait until they saw my presentation before I received an answer.

Making it all more important for me to nail it.

Though I did make sure I didn't let it take over my life. I still saw my friends, talked to my family, and, despite the time difference, managed to keep my relationship with Derrick alive and well.

We never went a day without catching up, whether that be over text or FaceTime, and when I got the news I'd made it further in the interview process, he'd sent me the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. So, when the end of March rolled around and the Royals managed to snag a guaranteed spot in the playoffs, I figured I needed to repay the favor.

And what was the equivalent of flowers for men in a long-distance relationship?

Phone sex.

It'd been completely new to me, but once the idea of it popped into my head, I'd gotten a thrill at the notion of trying it.

Derrick hadn't known what I had planned, and when he answered the FaceTime call, only to see me in a new lingerie set, his jaw had damn near fallen to the ground. Though his surprise didn't last long. Wide eyes quickly filled with lust, and through the entire experience, he'd been patient with me. Using his deep, compelling voice to instruct me to move like he wanted—slowly and laid out for his viewing pleasure—getting us both off after a tortuous build up.

And after finally hanging up, there was a redness to my cheeks as I bit my lip, coming to the realization that I'd actually gone through with it as the aftershocks of pleasure coursed through my veins.

Evidently my body had thoroughly enjoyed the experience, because when the next day came, I still felt like I had an extra spring in my step as I walked into the office I shared with Miles.

"Morning."

He sat at his desk, riffling through a freshly printed stack of papers, only turning at the sound of my voice. "Morning," he replied with a tentative smile.

I quirked a brow. "I take it you're nervous?"

Wearing a pair of navy slacks, a white dress shirt, and a blue patterned tie, he exhaled slowly, relaxing back into his chair. "A little," he admitted. Today was the big day for him. In less than twenty minutes he'd start presenting his defense to a few selected members of the department, and I was planning to sit in the back of the room as a silent cheerleader. After all, we'd worked together and leaned on one another in a work sense for the last five years, and it only made sense to be there for him now that it was all coming to an end. "I've been over this presentation so many times, I have it memorized, but while I've tried to come up with an answer to any possible question I could get asked, I'm still expecting a curveball or two."

"You're going to do great," I said encouragingly.

Rubbing his hands together, he said, "Let's hope so." Collecting his papers, he slipped them into his messenger bag, along with his laptop, before slinging the strap over his shoulder. "You coming?"

"You go ahead," I replied, "I'll follow in a few minutes. Room 1025, right?"

He nodded. "Just don't be late."

"I won't be."

As he left to go set up, I opened up my email and typed out a few quick responses to students who'd reached out for help on the problem set I'd assigned the day before, but before long, I was logging off and making my way downstairs.

The sign asking for total silence was already taped to the door, though it was still ajar as I slipped inside, giving Miles one last reassuring glance before the last professor entered the room. With everyone accounted for, I took a seat in the back corner of the room and watched the presentation commence.

While the concepts behind Miles' research were explained, I momentarily flashed back to the two of us watching a defense in this very room at the end of the first year we'd spent working toward our doctorate. Not unlike the two students on the opposite side of the room. Like them, we'd both been thrumming with nerves, still feeling out of place, yet wide-eyed at the confidence and poise the presenter spoke with.

And now it was our turn to step up to the mantle, with Miles going first.

Listening as he veered into his experiments, learnings, and theories, he spoke with conviction while still showing both sides of the coin—the good and the bad. The professors at the front were jotting down notes as the hour-long presentation went on, but otherwise appeared incredibly enthralled by his work. Just like I was.

That is, until his presentation began to wind down. He'd laid out all his conclusions and was going over next steps when some phrases he used began to sound oddly familiar despite having not seen this part of his work.

Then a bomb dropped in the pit of my stomach.

The end of his presentation wasn't just familiar, it was stolen. From me.

All the extra work I'd put in over the last month to connect both our areas of study—the experiments, the time spent correlating results, the conclusions—they were being used to prop up his own work. To convince the panel of professors he'd been the one to start this work that would propel the faculty forward.

When really, it had been me.

Sitting in the back, no one could see as my face drained of color at the realization. No one except Miles, and he didn't seem like he gave two fucks in that moment.

Not wanting to cause a scene, I held my tongue and began to squirm, trying my hardest to keep my emotions in check despite the flame of betrayal hollowing out my chest. It was crushing to know that Miles would do something like this. Making me think that, while it'd been one-sided, even his interest in me over the years was a front for his hidden agenda. He didn't like me, he liked my brain, and wanted to capitalize on it any way he could.

Which either made me an idiot, or him the most manipulative person I'd ever met.

Gritting my teeth through the entirety of the question portion, watching as he had a response for every question thrown at him, my shock turned to anger. How could he do this? And how did he even get this information? I hadn't yet finished the draft of my report or presentation with my new work, so the only way he would've found it would've been if he'd been on my computer. Which, considering I rarely locked my screen over lunch or when I left the office, was, unfortunately, a real possibility.

What an asshat.

When everything was officially over, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Heading back to our shared office, I knew I couldn't be here when Miles returned, because I was almost positive I'd lose my shit on him. So, I sent an email to Professor Klein, telling her I wasn't feeling well and was heading home—though having listened to the presentation, it wouldn't take her long to connect the dots around the true reason I was leaving.

With next to no traffic and my mind a capsule of chaos, I felt like I'd made it back to my place in no time. After all, it was only eleven.

Oh, how the day could change in just a few short hours.

Letting the front door slam shut, finally in the sanctuary of my own home, I let the lid off my bottled up emotions, and while the anger was still there, the betrayal and hurt rushing came back with a vengeance. Making a beeline for my room as the overwhelming feeling washed over me, I curled into a ball on my bed. My face was pressed into my knees as silent tremors shook my shoulders, and I let the tears fall.

Knowing that the one person I wanted to lean on was the one person that couldn't be here.

a/n: SO... before even starting to plot out this story late last year, I had four scenes floating around my head in terms of vague ideas I wanted to include and THIS way one of them! (Let me know if you can guess the other three - they've already happened!) I was so excited to finally write it and it came out better than I could've hoped!

Let me know what you thought in the comments below and don't forget to vote!